


Remember.

by orphan_account



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, Post-Doomsday Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo is a fusion, it wasnt super clear in the actual text so i wanna clarify here HJKDFG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28608174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Optimism is futile.
Kudos: 53





	Remember.

**Author's Note:**

> YES THIS IS INSPIRED BY THE TWITTER THREAD W/ RANBOO AND TUBBO YES I JUST COPY/PASTED A LOT OF IT HGKJDFG I AM EXPLORING THEORIES !!!  
> but also just making this extra clear: this is implying that ranboo is a FUSION, he just doesnt Remember that he is one. so please dont try to refer to this with like "split personality" shit or like, hallucinations. this IS vague, but that doesn't mean you can slap mental illnesses that you dont understand on it
> 
> also i wrote this all in one sitting at like 1am <3

|××××××××××|××××××××××|

The panic room was tempting sometimes.

Ranboo knew that it made him feel worse. He knew that whenever he was in that room, he’d only spiral further and further down into a sea of thoughts and feelings that he wasn’t stable enough to understand, all with the subtle tune of Mellohi floating in the room around him. He knew he shouldn’t go back- ever. He’d gotten his pets out, Philza’s house was safe, Techno still liked him,  _ he shouldn’t go back _ .

But even still, he found himself there. Pacing.

|××××××××××|××××××××××|

“Optimism is futile.”

The words came out of nowhere, leaving his throat without his control. But he didn’t have the time, nor the patience with himself to feel shocked.

“But why?” he asked himself, pacing quicker around the obsidian room as the music he’d been playing for got knows how long once again looped.

“Ranboo, you’ve reminded me of an old school friend,” he continued, the echo of his voice and the dripping liquid above him feeling far too loud.

“What does that mean- you’ve reminded me of a past time,” he barely had time to interject himself, “a time that has passed.”

“But- but,” he shook his head, pausing in his pacing for a moment, “time is always passing, that’s a constant of life.” He tried to assure himself in a desperate attempt to keep himself from spiraling.

“Time requires a reference frame. Different reference frames, different times. Time is always passing for you. In your reference frame.”

“...So my time has already passed?”

“ **I am time!** ” he said, a grin spreading across his face for a moment- only a moment. Just a moment.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, immediately bringing a hand over his mouth and leaning against the nearest wall, the music feeling so, so loud. “Futile…” he mumbled, “oh. Oh no.”

It was clicking. He didn’t like that.

“It is now you time,” he said, standing up straight again, “say goodbye to the nice people, memory boy.”

“...If only I could remember who the nice people  _ were _ …”

“Stay in the room. The seats are comfy. They’re comfy, they are.”

“Make yourself at home,” he stared down at his hands, “you’ll be here a while.”

He didn’t know anything about what he was saying.

“Where is ‘here’?”

He felt like he didn’t know anything.

“What is ‘now’?”

He hadn’t said that. He had an idea.

“Who are ‘you’?”

He let out a strained chuckle.

“Why you of course,” he said, shrugging, as if it were nothing, “unless you forgot me again. Like a past school friend.”

It made sense.

Ran. Boo.

Why was it only now making sense?

He felt like he was being torn in half- quite literally. Black from white. Red from green.

“I… I couldn’t forget you,” he shook his head, “that’s how time works, doesn't it?”

“...Doesn’t it? No- no no, I don’t think so. I don’t know  _ anyone _ .”

“...She knows.”

His eyes widened.

“How could she? We both know she can’t…”

“She’s dead, right?”

“... _ Right _ ?”

“ **_I KNOW WHAT WE DID!_ ** ”

“ **_Right_ ** ?”

His mouth hung open for a bit, staying agape in his own shock.

“She has to be,” he assured, nodding, “there’s no way she can’t be. Right.”

“ **_We watched her slow be lowered_ ** .”

“It was fun.”

“It was fun.”

“ _ It was fun _ .”

“ **_It was fun_ ** .”

“We are one.”

“ _ We are one _ .”

“ **_It was fun_ ** .”

“ **_We are one_ ** .”

He’d sunk down against the wall at this point. The floor was uncomfortable.

“Slow was lowered…”

“ _ We miss her _ .”

He paused for a moment, swallowing thick tension that had built in his throat.

“It’s okay,” he said quietly, resting his head against the obsidian and letting go of his hair. He hadn’t even realized he’d grabbed it. “It has always been, and it always will be.”

“...I think we should pay her a visit,” his voice worked on its own again, “you should go in first, though. She liked you better anyways.”

He nodded. “That’s probably best,” he said, “we need to find the right time.”

He thought for a moment, shaking his head and swallowing again.

“I wonder if she still is there… after all this time,” he chuckled, eventually devolving into a loud laugh that reverberated off the walls and back into his skull, “ **_I hope no one found her_ ** !”

“...Should us tell the we of she when us where connected?”

“...But connected was the she that could have been as well?”

His eyes went wide again, his tail straightening in immediate dread as he looked frantically around the room, as if someone was watching him.

“ **_WE HAVE BEEN IN CONTACT FOR TOO LONG_ ** !”

“They are looking at you.”

“Talking to we.”

“Goodbye for now.”

“Old friend.”

“Remember.”

Ranboo blinked slowly, simply keeping his eyes shut tightly for a few moments and breathing before opening them again. He stood up, wincing at the ache caused by his slouching against the obsidian. He breathed in deeply, exhaling quickly in almost a huff to try and ground himself.

Mellohi had stopped.

The disc was rested on top of the jukebox.

|××××××××××|××××××××××|

Now that he was out of the room again, it all felt so distant. He’d written it down- he’d scribbled it all in his book before he left, and tied the binding string on it extra tight. No one would find it, no one would read it.

He shook his head, standing right by the water that lead to the panic room.

He held his ender pearls in his hand, knowing far too well where a stash of blaze rods was in the house.

  
“ **_Remember._ ** ”


End file.
